Newburn #9: The Road to Hell Is Surprisingly Scenic

Significant gaps in time can be detrimental to the rhythm and flow of a comic due to the expectation and periodic nature of the medium. Generally, these installments are seen as pieces of a larger whole, weaving a story across multiple volumes, seasons, arcs, etc. A return to this framework after a gap can result in a loss of momentum, especially if not considered when the work was envisioned. Serialized stories often have a more challenging time with this, as the linear story engine requires more of that narrative momentum. Episodic stories can essentially bypass this due to their self-contained nature, as evidenced by the done-in-one issue or syndicated rerun (in the TV case). 

Newburn #9 – written by Chip Zdarsky with art, colors, and letters from Jacon Phillips and color assistance by Pip Martin – resumes after a year-long break, immediately picking up on the pieces left behind in issue #8. Emily was ratted out by Sydney Talbot, an old friend from the police academy, to the Albano crime family for accidentally killing the head figure’s nephew. Newburn found a peaceful solution, letting a Yakuza member who had killed the head of that crime organization take the fall for the crime. Newburn also silenced Talbot by killing him, ensuring that Emily was safe and revenge was enacted for her. 

Zdarsky and Phillips waste no time in resuming the delicate balance of serialized and case-of-the-week storytelling, using the events of volume 1 to propel the core mystery of this issue. After Talbot’s funeral, the current head of the Albano family needs Newburn to track down one of his men, Dez Gammino. Albano is sure the man faked his death to escape the thumb of gambling debts and issues with other members of the criminal organization. 

The case is an excellent way to inject the tension and repercussions of Newburn’s decisions at the end of issue #8, as Albano warns the detective that his status as neutral ground is quickly collapsing. Albano also accuses Newburn of killing Talbot, and Emily narrows into the fact that the mobster is telling the truth, which poses an issue for Newburn if she learns what happened to the cop. 

The rest of the issue is a simple investigation into what happened to Gammino, as Newburn tracks down leads into the man’s flight plans. He visits one of the best counterfeiters in town, who seems to have connections to Newburn, and learns that Gammino did come through. With the new name, Newburn and Emily track the man and his accomplice to a motel outside the city before dragging them back to the Albanos. The choice puts another strain on the relationship between Emily and Newburn, as he continues playing the game rather than showing compassion for the people. 

Thanks to the case of the week structure of the series, the length of time between issues feels non-existent. Zdarsky grounds the plot mechanics with the tension between Newburn and Emily, building off the intense cliffhanger of issue #8. Even a year removed from that issue, this issue refocuses immediately, and the first three pages effectively recap the plot while progressing the new tensions for the next arc. It’s an excellent example of how exposition can convey emotion and stakes for a story. 

The balance of serialized and episodic threads also makes for an excellent way to explore the larger world that Zdarsky and Phillips are tapping into. Previous issues explored various crime families, the community response to them, and how the police operate. With this issue, free agents like the counterfeiter come into focus. Zdarsky uses these figures in a two-pronged approach to move the mystery forward while also foreshadowing where Newburn is heading. Newburn gets the info to solve the case, sure, but he also receives the warning he’ll be needing the man’s services sooner rather than later. It’s a small moment but echoes Albano’s sentiments in the issue’s opening. 

So much of the emotion and lingering tension in the book comes from Phillips’s art, which knows the perfect moment to hit on a close-up or obscure an expression for maximum effect. One of the best panels in the issue is a close-up of Newburn’s face during a three-panel call with his mother. We only see Newburn during the exchange, and the ordinarily stoic detective lets a moment of weariness take over. Phillips adds more detail at the moment, and the weight of everything seems to sink into the man’s face. It’s a concise beat, just a few panels long, but it speaks volumes about the toil this life takes on the man. 

Phillips’s linework does so much more than capture those quiet, expressive moments, reveling in the opportunity to direct big emotion during Emily and Newburn’s fight at the end of the case. This moment comes right after an action beat where the duo is shot at, but the sparing of words between the two is more dynamic than any shootout. Phillips has proven himself in the action department time and time again and stages a significant bit of combat which speaks to Newburn’s character, as he’s able to win with nothing but his telescopic baton. He’s cool and methodic even under gunfire and doesn’t make a mistake at any point. 

The juicy bit of the work is in the aftermath, as Emily all but begs Newburn to show Gammino some mercy. Newburn snaps, and Phillips moves from a broad, low angle into a series of close-ups that convey the palpable rage on Newburn’s face. The more detailed linework returns once the focus is back on the face and the weary lines are gone, replaced by righteous fury. The final panel of the scene is a killer over-the-shoulder reaction as Newburn lays a cold truth onto Emily, and her anger and disdain slip out. The panel encapsulates what feels like the core tension in the future, still compounding on the last issue’s cliffhanger. 

The art is bolstered by Phillips and Martin’s coloring work on the book, adding texture to the book while building on the shifting mood. Light and shadow mix to create a beautiful but suffocating sense to this version of New York as the events of the last eight issues settle onto the characters. The coldness of the blues and pale greens in the opening scene sets a precedent for the reflective coloring, speaking to the emotion of the characters on the page. This occurs on every page but strikes hardest in the action sequence, with bright light flashes permeating night’s darkness.  

The other standout use of color is in the confrontation between Emily and Newburn. The scene takes place in the woods outside the city, allowing Phillips to inject a bit of genuine nature into the harsh urban cityscapes of the primary setting. The change in scenery creates a sense of unease, as it’s a foreign element that signals not the majesty of trees and green but a foreboding use of pastel pinks and blue. At the moment, it feels as though Newburn’s presence in this setting is corrupting it, and the coloring reflects, as his anger spills out and further moves the background palette away from the natural world. 

Along with the feature presentation, Newburn #9 continues the tradition of New York-based backup stories, this time from writer David Brothers and artist Nick Dragotta. The story focuses on a young pickpocket running his gambit, stealing a few wallets on his way home. He’s accosted by the man he stole the wallet from, and the confrontation escalates quickly and the young man is forced to defend himself. He realizes the man he stole from was a plainclothes cop and has put himself into police crosshairs.

The story explodes with kinetic energy, evident in art and writing, evoking a stylized fluidity that would feel more at home in a manga or anime than a traditional Western comic. From how Dragotta illustrates the young man’s strut to the propulsive action when the two men fight, the sense of movement is off the charts. The panel layouts give the appearance of quick cuts, moving from image to image to maximize clarity while capturing the lightning-quick nature of a real fight. 

Dragotta’s incorporation of SFX in those action beats again channels something more akin to a manga’s tool use. The WHACK breaking up a panel in silhouette or the KRAK that forms the right side of a panel’s outline draws the eye and makes the action feel like hyperbole on the page. Rather than feeling like separate elements added in to form the final product, every piece of the story clicks to build to a final product that’s a five-page adrenaline shot.